Look for the Sparkle

It is the morning of my husband’s first cancer-related surgery.

I’m sitting in the bathroom, reading a dismal story in Mother Earth News about the destructive wake of big agri-business—the loss of family farms, the death of small towns, the pollution of the environment and the toxification of our food. While towns die, Tyson foods records some $700 million in clear profit even in a bad year, economically. 

A sense of powerlessness makes me stop reading mid-article.  I do what I can, but where is everyone else?  Why do the power-mongers go unchecked?  What more can I do in the face of such overwhelming powers?

Nestled in the nap of the bathroom carpet, a single piece of glitter—a stray from some sparkling garb—winked at me with twinkle enough to tickle a fairy’s fancy.

Such little lights among the drab nap of life remind me that there is always a spark of hope.  I cling to it like a drowning kitten to a piece of driftwood and hope the coming tide is not too high to inundate us completely.

The taxi will be here soon, to take us to the hospital where a port will be installed in my husband’s chest—a little valve allowing the insertion of the chemotherapy which begins later this week.  From now on, only organic chicken from local farms. We have to continue to do whatever we can. Focus on that sparkle of light, and pray it is enough to save us from the tide.